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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947555">Chicken Soup for the Soul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elioolivercmbyntrash/pseuds/elioolivercmbyntrash'>elioolivercmbyntrash</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Elio &amp; Oliver one shots [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Armie Hammer - Freeform, Call me by your name, Fever, Flu, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oliver - Freeform, Sick Character, Sickfic, Timothee Chalamet - Freeform, Whump, but this is how i wish things went, elio perlman - Freeform, lots of fluff, sick elio, yes i know if you read find me the cannon is different</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:27:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elioolivercmbyntrash/pseuds/elioolivercmbyntrash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Spring break. Oliver and Elio had been planning a trip to Venice. It's cut very short. Lots of hurt/comfort, and fluff.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oliver/Elio Perlman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Elio &amp; Oliver one shots [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Chicken Soup for the Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't own these characters. </p><p>I had wanted to post this earlier in the week, but I've been so busy with work. I'm a keyworker; work is busy right now and I'm emotionally exhausted. Stay at home, folks, unless you have absolutely no choice. This virus is no joke.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oliver had been planning this trip for weeks, and when Elio woke that morning his limbs were heavy and sore and his head was throbbing. </p><p>Typical.</p><p>They’d come to Italy for spring break, and would spend a few days in Venice before driving to spend a couple of weeks at the villa with Elio’s parents.  Oliver had been surprised when he found out it would only take around 4 hours to drive to Venice from Milan. </p><p>“Driving 4 hours gets you nowhere in America!” he’d laughed. “Four hours isn’t much of a road trip.”</p><p>“Well, if you wanted to drive for days, we could always go to, like, Paris or something,” Elio had replied. </p><p>“Nah. Venice is fine.”</p><p>Elio had spent weeks mocking Oliver for buying the guide books and coming up with an itinerary, but he also thought it was so damn cute. And now, he was going to ruin it because he was sick. He would have to get through it for Oliver. </p><p>“Come on, sleepy head,” Oliver said. He placed a mug of coffee on the bedside table. “Mafalda’s made eggs.”</p><p>“Well, I’m not going to get up now, am I, until I’ve finished my coffee,” Elio said, sitting up and lighting a cigarette. The smoke hurt his throat and his lungs. He tried to suppress a cough. “You could always bring breakfast to me in bed?”</p><p>“Mafalda just about let me bring you a cup of coffee. I doubt she would allow you to eat eggs in bed,” Oliver laughed. “We need to leave in an hour.”</p><p>“Fine,” Elio said, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray and throwing the covers off. He started to shiver, and threw Oliver’s bathrobe on.</p><p>“You could’ve given that to me to finish if you didn’t want it,” said Oliver. </p><p>“You don’t smoke,” said Elio.</p><p>“You know that’s not entirely true.”</p><p>“Smoking won’t help you get ready faster.”</p><p>“Elio, it’s fine. I’m kidding. Are you alright? You’re shivering.”<br/>“I’m fine,” Elio said. “Go and get some breakfast, you goose, you know what you get like when you’re hungry. I’ll be there in a minute.” </p><p>Once Oliver had left the room, Elio took his coffee to the en-suite bathroom and poured it down the sink. He usually couldn’t resist Mafalda’s coffee, but today the smell was making him nauseous. </p><p>Elio barely touched his eggs. “Mafalda, you don’t need to fuss over me. I’m not a kid anymore,” Elio snapped. “I’m just not hungry, OK?”</p><p>---</p><p>“It’s cold in this car,” said Elio, a couple of hours later when they finally started to make their way to Venice. They’d ended up leaving an hour late, because Mafalda had decided she needed to make them some lunch to take, since Elio hadn’t eaten breakfast. </p><p>“Is it? Elio, you’re already wearing a thousand layers. Are you alright?” Oliver asked, looking Elio up and down. “You’re looking a bit pale.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Elio lied. “Could we just turn the heater up a little?”</p><p>“Sure,” Oliver said. “Are you sure y-”</p><p>“Oliver, for God’s sake I’m fine!” he said. This trip needed to be perfect, because Oliver was perfect, and because Elio was desperate for some time away. He was not sick. He did not want to be sick. </p><p>“Alright, alright,” said Oliver. He turned the heater and the radio up and hummed as he drove.</p><p>Elio struggled to keep his eyes open as they drove. His head was throbbing, and his whole body was heavy, his legs aching like he’d run a marathon. He was freezing, and then the next minute he felt hot. His stomach was doing somersaults. Fuck, he thought. I am sick.  An hour into the journey, an hour before they were due to swap so Oliver could take a break from driving, Elio fell asleep.</p><p>He was woken an hour later by Oliver, who looked concerned. “You’re sick,” said Oliver. “Why didn’t you say something?”</p><p>“I’m...no I’m not. Are we at our stop? I’ll get in the driver’s -” Elio said, his voice thick with sleep.</p><p>“Are you kidding me? You cannot drive; it wouldn’t be safe. We’re going back to your parents.”</p><p>“But I’m fine, Oliver. I’m just tired from the jet lag.”</p><p>“We’ve been in Italy for 3 days, Elio. You’ve got a fever; you’re like a furnace. I can feel that heat radiating off of you. You look dreadful. It’s OK to be sick.” Oliver had placed a hand on Elio’s forehead, and gave him a bottle of water.</p><p>“But Venice -”</p><p>“Will still be here in the summer. We’ll go then. Come on. Let’s get you back home. You need rest. Have some water, please."</p><p>Elio felt his eyes prick with tears. He’d been working his ass off all semester, and had been so excited for spring break and Venice. “I’ve let you down,” he mumbled.</p><p>“How, exactly?” Oliver took both of Elio’s hands in his.</p><p>“You were really looking forward to this trip, and I’ve ruined it.”</p><p>“Oh Elio. You haven’t let me down, you haven’t ruined anything, and we can go in the summer. Venice will still be there. You can’t go on vacation like this. I wish you’d said something earlier. Stubborn should be your god-damned middle name. Now, you need to take that coat off, and I’m turning this heater down. Your fever needs to come down, and I need to stay awake so that we can get back safely to your parents.”</p><p>“OK,” mumbled Elio, as he took his coat off and rubbed his eyes on his sweater sleeves. Oliver threw the coat into the backseat.</p><p>“Remember the time you were sick that summer 3 years ago, and you called me your knight in shining armour,” Oliver said with a smile, as they began the journey back to Milan.</p><p>“Don’t,” Elio muttered. “God. I was delirious.”</p><p>“That was the most amazing Freudian slip I’ve ever heard.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” said Elio. </p><p>“It was adorable. Get some sleep, honey, we’ll be home soon.”</p><p>---</p><p>“Did you forget something?” Annella asked, when she opened the door to Elio and Oliver.</p><p>“I’m sick,” said Elio, looking at his shoes.</p><p>“He’s got a fever,” Oliver explained. “He didn’t eat breakfast because he was feeling sick, but didn’t bother to say anything, because he did not want to ruin anything. Silly goose.”</p><p>---</p><p>“Elio? Mafalda’s made some of her famous chicken soup,” Oliver said, coming into the bedroom. “Do you think you could manage some?”</p><p>“No,” came Elio’s muffled reply. </p><p>Oliver placed the bowl of soup on the side and sat down on the bed, pulling some of the covers off Elio. “You can’t have that many blankets on you, honey. Your fever needs to come down.”</p><p>“I’m sweating it out.”</p><p>“That’s just an old wive’s tale,” said Oliver. “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”</p><p>“Of philosophy,” said Elio. Oliver laughed.</p><p>“Please try a bit of soup? It’s delicious.”</p><p>“Then you eat it. If I eat anything, I’ll throw up. Oliver? Are you mad at me? Because of the trip?”</p><p>“I’m not, Elio. You cannot help being sick.” Oliver stroked Elio’s cheek. “I wish I could make you feel better. Can I get you anything?”</p><p>“Well, actually,” Elio said, biting his lip. “Um, I have to pee. But I feel too weak to get out of bed. Could you help me?” </p><p>“Sure,” Oliver said. He helped Elio to sit up and swing his legs off the bed. He let Elio lean his body weight into him as he helped him to get up. Elio was too weak to stand, so he helped him to sit on the toilet. “Call me when you’re done,” said Oliver. </p><p>“I won’t be long,” Elio said. “Stay?”</p><p>“Fine,” Oliver sat on the edge of the bath. Elio’s face turned slightly green.</p><p>“I’m dizzy,” he muttered. </p><p>“Are you going to be sick?” </p><p>Elio nodded, and Oliver grabbed the plastic bin by the sink, placed it in Elio’s hands just in time for him to vomit.  “Get it all out,” said Oliver, as he rubbed Elio’s back in comforting circles.</p><p>“I feel awful,” muttered Elio. </p><p>“I know, sweetie. Are you done? Let’s get you off the toilet and get you some water.”</p><p>Oliver sat beside Elio’s bed, and placed a cool cloth on Elio’s forehead. Elio mumbled in his sleep, delirious from fever dreams. Annella popped in and out during the day, bringing water and coffee. </p><p>“Oliver, it’s dinner time,” Annella said. “You must eat. You won’t be able to look after Elio if you don’t look after yourself. He’s sleeping. He’ll be alright without you for a bit.”</p><p>---</p><p>Elio’s fever finally broke a couple of days later, although he still felt weak and exhausted. He was nursed slowly back to health with bedrest, love and tenderness from Oliver and his mother and Mafalda’s chicken soup, which Oliver had fallen in love with so much he’d asked for the recipe. </p><p>“You know when I called you my knight in shining armour?” Elio said, sleepily. “I wasn’t kidding, Oliver. No, don’t kiss me. I do not want you to get sick.”</p>
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